Forget Me Today
by Skychaser
Summary: Companion to "Remember Me Tomorrow". Trevor Cullen is very confused. Bella Swan is one angry young woman. So why can't he bring himself to stay away? Trevor POV Mini-Moments for "Remember Me Tomorrow".
1. Chapter One: Too Afraid to Love You

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, and I will not be earning income from using these materials. I do, however, own the storyline and any original characters. Thank you.

**A/N: **This is a series of one shot mini-moments which fit into the middle of my story,** "Remember Me Tomorrow"**. Please read that first, otherwise, these probably won't make much sense. They were also small rewards for those who have reviewed, so I will only be posting the mini-moments from chapters which are FAR in the past. :) Sorry for those who feel it isn't fair, but I feel that those who take the time to review deserve a little somthin' extra.

For those who haven't read, I hope you enjoy!

Also, this mini-moment is a Trevor POV from **Chapter Five: Into Flames**

* * *

**Forget Me Today:**  
**Mini Moments with Treward**

"Too Afraid to Love You"

x0x0x0x0x0x

"Leave." Her smooth chin turned sharp, quivering. "Please."

Wait … what? This girl was more complicated than calculus based astrophysics. I wasn't sure what was worse – her split-second mood swings or my inability to stay away from her despite them. Before my sluggish faculties could catch up with the moment, she was sprinting away, out of my grasp.

_No, wait, I still have to ask – _

The elastic band that seemed to tug me incessantly in her direction snapped tight as she paced away. Unconsciously, my hand wrapped firmly around her forearm, encasing it completely. Her skin was ice; I felt like fire, but the fingers encircling her arm ached in a pleasantly familiar way. She had to stay.

"Bella, plea –"

"Goodbye, Trevor."

The name was hostile, an unnatural insult, the way it left her lips. But her eyes were so familiar. A wave of fear washed through me.

_Please, don't leave –_

Before I could finish my silent plea, a barricade of wood and metal separated me from my ghost. The moment was gone. I stumbled backwards into the wooden rim of the island. The closed door sliced through the ties that bound me to her, leaving me reeling. The air around me cooled; a physical chill from the sparks that her body had thrown off while she existed in my atmosphere.

_What. The. Fuck?_

It had taken nine years. Nine years of rebuilt memories, of working to forget what I could never remember and move into a tentative acceptance. And with one word, she had torn everything I thought I knew down.

"_Edward."_

I slammed my hands down once on the ceramic, pursing my lips and walking harshly out of the apartment, into the downpour. So, I may have slammed the door a little.

Pellets of rain beat against my exposed skin as I raced back towards Rosalie's apartment. Even though Dinah, my '57 Harley Sportster, was my baby, and therefore my favorite mode of transportation, she didn't ride well in the rain. I glanced up at the grey, swirling clouds. Yeah, it wasn't letting up anytime soon.

Occasionally, my mind would drift back to the kitchen. I could see her, the unknown wrapped up in the conventional, bound together in one package. So why did everything about her seem so familiar?

Maybe it was the familiar – Alice's kitchen, a place I knew better than the one at my own apartment – screwing with my head. I had spent so many hours and days there, between she and Rosalie, laughing, cooking, carrying on. My mind had taken the familiarity of the setting and bled it into seeing _her_ as something I knew.

_Bella_, I yelled furiously at myself. _Damn it, Trevor, you can say her name._

I grabbed onto the thought, clinging desperately, as I pulled up to Rose's, well, our future home. She still wasn't there. Fuck. I had been hoping for some of her sanity to replace what I was steadily losing. Sighing through my nose, I ran my hand through my hair, tugging at the greasy strands. That was when I caught sight of Rose's country club card.

_Perfect. _

After pulling Dinah into the accompanying garage and giving her a good rub down to remove the layer of wet, I changed into an old pair of Speedos and slipped black gym shorts and a t-shirt over them. As an afterthought, I grabbed a pair of jeans for good measure and made my way to the gym by alternate vehicle.

I expected to venture into the pool and lose myself in a long, back breaking swim. I was surprised to be greeted with the unexpected sight of her familiarity washing over me again. Her long, lithe limbs arced, slipping in and out of the water, pulling her body through the slick waves in perfect position.

God, the description was even turning me on.

I decided to say hello. Try again; make amends, if you will. Irrational? Maybe, but I had the feeling rationality wasn't driving me forward anymore.

Now, because of that mindless, lower-brain decision, I had been through another injury, an awkward, annoying, and yet still intriguing conversation, and now here I sat, staring into the eyes of the most fascinatingly frustrating creature I had ever met. She was beautiful, she was angry, and she had just said please in a voice that shot straight past my pants and into my chest.

It was more than lust. She was asking me for the truth. I prepared to answer her, but her lips moved again, and she was pleading with me.

"I just what … Edward."

No. It was wrong. It was so wrong, and then it wasn't. Something unused and unknown snapped into place, and the wrong name, slipping off of her tongue as an afterthought, sounded perfect.

You're just right, Bella.

I still couldn't tell her the truth.

"You just fascinate me, Bella."

And I kissed her. Damn it all, I kissed her. I couldn't tell you why or how, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were cinnamon and warmth all over, those malleable lips. So very unlike my … Rosalie.

Instantly I pulled away, slipping out of the car and disappearing while praying I was fast enough to leave before she opened her eyes.

Rose. _Shit. _

Sliding onto Ellie's plush leather seat, I shoved my head against the head rest and jammed my palms against the steering wheel.

_What the hell was I thinking? _

I couldn't help but snicker. It was obvious enough – I wasn't thinking at all. Okay, so how did I get through this? I only had one choice – honesty. If Rose asked, I would tell the truth.

If she didn't? Well, then I would bless Bella for the remainder of my days, while staying as far away from her as possible. I slouched in my seat, unable to even stick the key in the ignition.

Staying away? I wasn't even sure that _was_ possible.


	2. Chapter Two: Dancing with the Devil

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, and I will not be earning income from using these materials. I do, however, own the storyline and any original characters. Thank you.

**A/N:** Thank you to my ever-loving, amazing, loyal beta, **clarabella75**, for her lovely beta-ing job. Also, a very extra special shout out to an amazing lady on the FFA forum who is just beyond awesome - to **HeartOfDarkess** ~ HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETS! I hope it's been awesomely fitting, cause you just freaking rock. :)

With no further ado, I present to you our second trip into the mind of Trevor. Hope you enjoy!

This mini-moment is a Trevor POV which fits oh-so-nicely into **Chapter Seven: Easy Complications** - aka: The Engagement Party.

* * *

**Forget Me Today:  
Mini-Moments with Treward**

**"Dancing with the Devil"**

x0x0x0x0x0x

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight – _

Each button hooked, except for the last. I tucked the dress shirt into my pants and ran my hands down the white cotton, feeling the uncomfortable pressure of the knotted thread from the buttons against my chest. A thin, dark grey tie hung, untied, around my neck, matched perfectly to the shade of the belt looped through the deep, dark blue jeans, which could almost pass for dress pants. I was counting on that similarity to get me out of the door in at least _something_ I wanted to wear.

Slipping on the most God-awful, unbearable, Versace dress shoes Rose had ever forced me to wear, I tested the slickness of the patent leather sole, twisting on the ball of my foot. The world spun, dizzying, and I stomped my heel down, jerking to a stop.

I peeled my eyes open and nearly stepped backwards. I had halted, face up, confronted with the image of the one person I had been unable to bear for over a month – myself.

The grin dropped off of my face, and I ran my hand along my jaw. A thin five o'clock shadow already appeared. I had shaved this morning.

Rose was going to be pissed I hadn't shaved later in the day.

My hair was unruly and in desperate need of a trim. I ran a hand through it, trying to flatten it down, but it all looked stupid. I would just have to let it go.

Physically, I seemed the same as I had every other day of every other week.

Emotionally, I was a disaster.

For the first month, I felt myself tensing every time Rose looked at me, certain my sins were tattooed all over my skin. I frequently wondered if Bella was simply waiting for the opportune moment to bring me down.

Eventually, I realized she hadn't snitched. I was beginning to think she wasn't going to.

It was the most stunning revelation of all. I had betrayed my fiancée – hell, the entire female gender – and one of their own _wasn't _waiting to bring me down at the slightest fault. Either she was secretly undergoing a sex change, or she had some other reason for keeping my transgressions to herself.

Or maybe the kiss had meant something to her, too.

I shook my fear off, knowing I had no time to analyze and less time to simply forget about the past. Rose's wedding was four weeks away, and tonight was our formal presentation to Atlanta society, the engagement party which would show everyone we were truly official.

Well, everyone that mattered, at least.

One explicit knock followed the creaking of the dressing room door as it opened. Rose's reflection entered behind me, her tall, white heels clicking across the hardwood floor.

"Hey baby, I was just coming to make sure –" her lips halted as she caught sight of me. A pretty scowl broke out on her reflection. "Trevor," she pointed at my legs, "didn't I beg you to wear something other than those?"

Restraining every initial reaction, I turned away from the unhappy reflection and reached for the sport jacket lying across the arms of the chair behind me. "I know, but hey, you got me into these," I pointed at my feet, "and this,"I lifted the jacket high before moving to slip it around my shoulders.

Rose rolled her eyes and moved in front of me, her long, lithe fingers deftly pulling my tie together and then smoothing a creased wrinkle in the white cotton of my shirt.

"Just know, you are not wearing them to the ceremony. Or I swear to God, I won't walk down that aisle," she grinned lightly, but her tone said she wasn't kidding. "I'll see you inside," she threw the words over her shoulder as she moved towards the door and back to the party, stopping halfway out of the room. "And you had better not drink anything besides wine." Then she was gone, back to release her inner hostess.

A soft whistle under my breath and a raised eyebrow were my only replies to her demands. I wasn't intentionally trying to piss her off, but lately she had become so controlling. The loyal, affectionate Rosalie I had fallen in love with had vanished, leaving some misconstrued version of her mother behind.

Two hours later, I had schmoozed, complimented, and socialized my way through the massive crowds, an innate fear of encountering the beautiful brunette edging the corners of my mind. Three vodka martinis later, I was feeling far less fear as I scooped two mints out of the bowl on top of the bar and prayed I didn't run into my fiancée. Instead, I turned and ran headlong into Casey Andrews, the son of one of Mr. Hale's largest clients.

I prayed the groan didn't show on my features, as all I wanted to do was find a seat; instead, I stood and listened to Casey ramble for a full ten minutes while my mind and eyes drifted elsewhere. It was then I spotted her, over the little brat's shoulder.

Her dark hair hung in tasteful waves over two thin shoulders, while her lips were turned down in confusion. Her hands were folded gently, one over the other. At the same moment, I spotted Alice and Jazz next to her. My decision was instant and probably beyond foolish. I was going to ask her – alone.

I noticed the moment she caught my eyes, and from the time I dismissed Casey to the instant she took my hand and agreed to accompany me outside, I found I could focus on nothing else but the frightened, drawn look glowing in hers. The thought of her as my captive sent thrills of excitement down my spine, which I quickly shoved away in revulsion at myself.

She shivered when we stepped onto the verandah, and I threw my jacket over her bare shoulders without a second thought. Her motions were careful as she walked to the railing, tugging my jacket tightly around her, and so I let the words spill from my mouth before I could over think anything.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I was stupid and wrong and I should never have done what I did, but thank you, for everything, for not telling and not trying to start anything else for Rose and me, and, well, thank you." I looked up to find her staring at me, wide eyed. "You're more than words can say, Bella."

She was speechless. I knew I had stunned her, but the next question I had was what truly baffled me. "Why?" I asked, before I even had a chance to think.

"What?"

"Why didn't you say anything? Why not rat me out?"

She shrugged her shoulders, indifferent, and adjusted my jacket.

"It's no one else's business."

Her eyes told me it was the simplest thing in the world, and she didn't understand why I found it so – well, refreshing. I wanted to scream at the fates. Why hadn't a girl like this, or even this girl, made her way into my life long before now.

"You're definitely not from around here, are you?"

"No." She fumbled around with her hands a bit, and then looked me point blank in the eye. "Can I ask you a question now?" The statement was simple, but effective. Once more I was in love with her honesty.

"I guess I got you out here, so sure, why not?" I ran one hand through my hair and leaned closer, barely a foot away from her face. I could smell my own cologne mixed with the scent of fruit. The proximity was dangerous; I knew it like I knew the back of my hand. "What can _I_ do for _you_, Isabella Swan?"

"Same question," she stuttered slightly. I knew the effect I was having on her. My slight inebriation rejoiced – until she asked her question. "Why?"

I was physically stunned, moved backwards – what kind of answer did I give her? Certainly not one that would satisfy.

"Honestly?" I searched and searched, came up empty. I could never tell her the truth. 'Because there's something about you drawing me in, and I don't know how to stop it?' "I don't know."

Lame. I had fallen flat on a nondescript answer, and now I was eating my words. She was definitely dissatisfied, her gaze falling to the street. She was disappointed – in me.

"Bella?" I couldn't stop myself. Alcohol was causing my emotions to run high, and I moved in closer, so close I could feel the heat of her skin. "Does it matter?" She turned to look at me and gasped, ever so slightly, her lips parting in a perfect 'o.'

"Ed –" I heard the beginnings of a name, the same name, 'his' name, this unknown competition she always seemed to accompany with me, and it drove me to a temporary moment of insanity.

I kissed her. Again. Damn.

Yet, all at once it was perfection. Her flawless, small, tender lips, moving against mine so fluidly. I could feel all of her turn to putty under my touch, and I reached out to hold her up, cupping her cheek. She tasted like gin, all sweetness and warmth, like smooth vermouth beside a slowly burning fire.

Her hands found my chest, and all at once she was gone, her warmth leaving my hands empty and my body cold. A cold that slapped me back into reality.

"Stop," she muttered, and she swallowed hard.

"Damn it!"

She cringed at my curse, and I turned away, an unending line of expletives rattling out in my head. I tugged at my hair, mercilessly and unthinkingly.

"Please stop," she whispered again, but I flinched away the moment her skin met mine. I stopped, leaning against the railing in defeat.

"I'm so sorry, Bella, I just –" She didn't let me go any farther.

"Look, it's okay, just, don't do it again and we'll forget about it." I wanted to laugh in her face? Don't do it again? The only way that would be possible is if we never saw each other again. Every molecule in my body was demanding I draw her to me once more.

She reached out for me and I flinched away, this time intentionally. If she came anywhere near, I wouldn't be held responsible for my actions.

"You have to go back inside." She snorted indelicately. "It _is_ your party." I attempted to apologize again, but she shook her head firmly. "You have guests to get back to, Mr. Cullen." She would never cease to amaze me.

"Thank you, Bella." I pulled myself together, forcing all thoughts of Bella's lips to the back of my mind for later contemplation, and pulled open the door. I could feel her trailing behind me, like some kind of magnet. I was always aware of her presence, which is why I was surprised when my magnet bounced into me the moment I stopped, totally unaware of mine.

I did hear, however, the small squeak and rush of air departing her lungs as she realized why I had halted in my tracks. A gorgeous blonde, wrapped in perfection, was staring me down, waves of anger and seething hatred rolling off of her stance.

My fiancée was waiting.


	3. Chapter Three: Can't Wait Another Minute

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Twilight characters or "Stop Standing There" by Avril Lavigne, and I will not be earning income from using these materials. I do, however, own the storyline and any original characters. Thank you.

**A/N:** Thank you to my ever-loving, amazing beta, **clarabella75**, for her lovely betaing job.

With no further ado, I present to you our third trip into the mind of Trevor. Hope you enjoy!

This mini-moment is a Trevor POV which fits oh-so-nicely in between **Chapter Thirteen: A Slow Descent** and **Chapter Fourteen: Tangled Up In Moments**

* * *

**Mini-Moments with Treward #3  
"Can't Waste Another Minute"**

_Don't waste another day, don't waste another minute_  
_I can't wait to see your face, just to show you how much I meant it_  
_So open up your heart, help me understand_  
_Please tell me who you are, so I can show you who I am_

"Stop Standing There" – Avril Lavigne

x0x0x0x0x0x

Rose's break-up was like a hand grenade compared to Bella's permission. Her permission felt more like an atomic bomb, the flash shock and heat, the wonder of the mushroom cloud – and the horror of what I knew would be the ensuing fallout.

But as her hand slid from mine, the fallout was the last thing on my mind. There was something electric about her, and the magnetic draw of pain in my chest confused the living hell out of me – I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hand around her wrist, tug her back into me, and kiss her senseless.

Because that would be the most intelligent thing to do in front of Alice Brandon.

If she had a shotgun, she would shoot me dead on the spot.

But Bella … my hands resting on her hips, my arm stretched around her waist, supporting her, being what she needed … it felt more right than I could understand. And I definitely didn't understand.

A parting 'goodnight' was all I could manage, closing the door, quickly flipping the locks, a firm, heavy, metallic barrier between us, but it didn't mean I couldn't see her. Her teased brown curls bouncing happily on top of her head as she hopped to the car; two quick jumps and her perfect, thin fingers spread along the car door, hesitating a few seconds before pulling the metal towards her and practically falling into the seat.

Anger at Jasper for not helping her quickly flared and died out. He had probably expected me to get her into the car. But I knew if I left that stoop, I wasn't coming back into the house.

So instead, I watched. I stood there, the coward that I was, and didn't help her. I watched the taillights disappear into the sleeting rain; I watched the bare, slim trees flop their branches about in the wind; I watched the thin layer of ice sweep across the drive, the un-leafed azalea bushes and arched dogwood limbs, and I felt the warmth of her presence fade, a thin layer of dissatisfaction and loneliness blanketing me.

I don't know how long I stood there, my eyes fixed on the place she had stood, my fingers stretching, aching for the feel of her underneath them. It was the look in her eyes when she turned back, with no idea I was watching; the helpless resistance, the longing, the doe-eyed fear, and simple, heartbroken misery.

She didn't deserve the leftovers.

Did time truly matter? Would I waste away, leaving us miserable, grieving a loss I didn't feel?

Not only was it stupidly pointless, I didn't care. I couldn't waste another minute.

Steps later I was in my room, my phone in my hands. There was only one person I knew who wouldn't give me up.

"Jasper?"

"Hey man. You okay? You sound out of breath."

"Are you still at Alice's?"

"Just about to leave. Dude, you and Rose pissed her off royally."

I sighed through my nose.

"Yeah, I got that feeling. Even though I kind of didn't have anything to do with tonight."

"So you haven't been flirting with Bella?"

My stomach dropped. Shit … was I that obvious?

"Look, it doesn't matter, all of that's over now. I need her number."

"Alice's?"

"No, jackass, Bella's."

"Trevor," Jasper paused, and I could see him slumping in the driver's seat, hand shoved into his hair in exasperation. "Look, I really don't think that's a good idea. You and Rose – well, Rose just broke everything off. Jumping into another relationship … do you really want Bella to be the rebound girl?"

"Rebound girl?" I practically growled the words.

Was my reaction irrational? Yes.

But I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Bella for months. Hell, I hadn't been able to shut up about her when Rose wasn't around for weeks. Jasper should have known better.

"Bella will never be a rebound girl – to me or anyone else."

"Chill out, Trev, I know." Stilted silence seeped through the receiver. I had almost closed the phone in defeat when Jasper's sigh crackled in the dead air. "Fine. Did you mention this to Bella?"

"Yeah." My relief was obvious. I practically sighed into the line.

"Okay. I'm gonna get it from Alice, and if she asks, I'll make something up. Don't you dare fucking tell her I got Bella's number for you. I'm not gonna wind up in deep shit over this."

"Jasper, I owe you big time."

"You bet your ass you do. I'll text you."

The call ended.

I paced, unable to slow down and breathe. It was nothing short of a miracle I'd gotten Jasper to help me, but the waiting was becoming sheer torture. For as long as I could remember, a piece of me, as small as it might be, was always missing. A hole, a puncture in my memory, years lost to scars on brain tissue my body couldn't repair, and I'd accepted it, moved on, grown contented with never finishing the puzzle.

Then she stumbled into my life, haphazardly unwitting, and fell directly into the hole, plugging up the missing part. I had been living for so long without it, I hadn't even realized her effect – until tonight. I had become so comfortable with the lack, I didn't know what wholeness was until she showed me.

It was in Rose's eyes, etched on her words … I knew what she meant.

I had changed – questioning, searching, and feeling things I didn't understand. She had changed – desiring, growing, and accepting things she had refused to believe.

Bella had walked into my life and shattered what I knew. I couldn't let her leave me in pieces.

My phone vibrated in my hands. Jasper.

Her number was saved into my phone in seconds, but then I was staring at a blank screen with no words. So I typed the very first ones that came to mind.

_Don't challenge me, Bella. I told you I would find you._

I hit send in a panic, before I could turn chicken and not even choke out a hello.

Shit.

What happened to charming and elegant?

Looks like I was going for creepy and stalker.

When I didn't receive a text that night, I wasn't surprised. It was stupid of me to think she would respond immediately, as anxious for my conversation as I was for hers. Besides, with the text I had sent, I wouldn't be surprised if she had blocked my number by now.

One insomnia-laden night later, I was still text-less. Two bowls of Captain-Crunch and a Pop-Tart later, I was still text-less. One twenty-minute shower later, and I was still text-less.

My hope was dwindling like a worn-out yo-yo.

My guitar became my only solace. I sat on my bed and strummed, new, unknown chords that had been cropping up in my head for weeks. Since the night of the engagement party, when her soft, vulnerable curves and the way she had arched into my kiss had awoken a distinctly familiar melody I couldn't flesh out.

I had almost picked out the fourth chord in the sequence when I felt the end of my bed vibrate. Gently tossing my instrument to the side, I snagged the phone, breathless and hopeful, two completely unrecognizable emotions for the collected, reasonable me.

Her name was aglow on the screen.

Bella.

It felt like barely enough. But it would do … for now.


	4. Chapter Four: Open Your Eyes

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, and I will not be earning income from using these materials. I do, however, own the storyline and any original characters. Thank you.

**A/N:** Thank you to my ever-loving, amazing, loyal beta, **clarabella75**.

With no further ado, I present to you our fourth trip into the mind of Trevor. Hope you enjoy!

This mini-moment is a Trevor POV which fits oh-so-nicely into **Chapter Fifteen: Please Remember Me**

*Side note - **Buckhead** is an upper class district of Atlanta, GA.*

* * *

**Mini-Moments With Treward #4  
"Open Your Eyes"**

_Inspired by the song "Open Your Eyes" by Andrew Belle_

x0x0x0x0x0x

The squeal of the tires would have been faint against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

If I had actually heard it.

But I could hear nothing save the beating of my own heart, throbbing in painful gasps.

She left.

She left with tears in her eyes, running away because I couldn't believe her, not enough to break through the bond of love I had for the ones who had raised me, had given me everything I knew.

And yet I could still feel her, sparks in my veins, penetrating my blood, a bond deeper than a casual acquaintance, stronger than a few months friendship.

I should never have yelled. She should never have run.

Familiar heat swept around my shoulders, drawing me into a niche I knew well – my mother's arms.

"Trevor." Her voice shook.

"Am I?" Mine shook harder.

"You will _always_ be my son."

I sank inwards, fighting the familiarity, the warmth which ignited flames of fear and controversy. The voice which already told me who I was not.

"But I'm not, really."

"No."

The word was fire, burning my brain from the outside in.

I expected confusion. I expected pain. I expected pressure, hesitancy, an all consuming displacement to stifle my thoughts and muddy my mind.

I didn't expect contentment.

And I most certainly didn't expect the irrational flare of anger.

"Why?" I heard the word, a growl, gravel in my throat. I shoved away from the comfort.

Tears glistened in her forest green eyes. I still couldn't see a hint of myself in her face.

"Because we loved you, Trevor. Because you had no one, and we wanted to be your someone. You needed us as much as we needed you, and I will never apologize for taking care of a hurt, lost, lonely boy." Her words were firm, the antithesis to her shaking fists.

I stepped closer to the door.

"How?"

She swallowed, stood and nearly fell back onto the chaise, but her eyes held mine.

"There was a plane crash."

I shut my eyes at her words, striving to remember something, anything with a stamp of truth to it. Sad eyes, brown eyes, deep and distraught. A pen, paper, a missing wallet. Images and impressions, springing to the forefront, leaping to my mind and disappearing, but leaving a mark.

It was true.

"You were one of very few survivors, but you were the only one with no identification … and no memory."

I shook, leaning against the door frame.

"We hoped you would remember, and when you didn't, we simply fell in love. You are our heart. No matter what we've done, we've always loved you … for you."

She was telling the truth. I knew it to my core. I had only one more question.

"When?"

She swallowed, eyes calmly fixed.

"What do you remember, Trevor? "

My lips pursed. Before my eighteenth birthday? Nothing.

"You have your answer."

Nearly two decades … missing. And I had chased away the one person who could have opened them up for me.

Adrenaline and a need to know pushed me to turn my back on the woman who had loved me as her own for the past nine years of my life. I would forgive her … I couldn't not. But forgiveness would take understanding and belief.

Both things I needed more of.

Jogging out to meet Eleanor in the garage, I slammed the key into the ignition and headed in one singular direction like a bat out of hell – towards Rosalie Hale's apartment.

I don't know what incomprehensible intuition drove me towards the small two bedroom condo in downtown Buckhead, but by the time I was out of the car, I barely realized where I had ended up.

I hopped up the stairs two at a time and my fist crashed into the fourth floor door, nearly as frantic as my heartbeat.

The door swung open.

"Trevor?"

The body standing in the doorway to the condo which, once-upon-a-lifetime, would have been mine, threw me off. I tried to glance around him.

"Is Rose here?"

Emmett raised an eyebrow and eyed me before swearing under his breath.

"Damn it, Iz."

Rose's head peaked under Emmett's arm.

"Em, who – oh." I felt her eyes brush me over, head to toe. "Shit."

I knew it. My chest was crushed.

Rose slipped past Emmett's broad frame and took my hand.

"Come inside, please."

The lights in the apartment were off, and the thick, spice laden scent of Rose's homemade spaghetti sauce hung in the air. A flood of memories, of other memories of an other self, and the horrible mistake that other self nearly made, spilled into my head, flashes of images and impressions to fill in more of the pieces I had lost.

I nearly made it all the way to the living room when the words spilled, unable to stay unbound any longer.

"Is it true?"

"Trevor?" It was a high, very not-Rosalie voice. Alice.

"Alice, just … listen." The Rosalie voice answered.

I stared at the television, at the frozen image of a heady green forest settled languidly on the screen. I couldn't look away.

"Trevor, you have to listen to me." The Rosalie voice sounded strained, with overtones of calm. "Is what true?"

I swallowed, my name echoing in my ears, realization slapping me in the face.

"Is that really even my name?"

The question was even, flat, and emotionless. Alice squeaked in confusion. Rosalie shifted and sighed.

"No." I started when Emmett answered me. "It didn't used to be."

I looked over at him, wondering if he could see the pain in my eyes, wondering if it matched the pain in his. He nodded and left the room. I didn't have the strength to think his motions odd. The Alice voice finally rang out over the silence.

"Okay, look, I shut up, now will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?"

I looked at Rosalie. Rosalie looked at her. Emmett's feet made measured stomps back into the room. He moved closer to me than before, then looked at Alice.

"C'mere, Tinkerbell."

Without waiting, Emmett took my hand and placed a slick piece of paper in it. A picture, face down. I turned it over.

It was me at the piano, not so many months ago, green grass floating like a heady sea against a backdrop of blue with stunning streaks of sunlight. I recognized the backdrop from the photo shoot so many months ago. And Bella's voice, whispering a name.

_Edward …_

Alice had come to stand next to me, her eyes scanning the photograph.

"I don't get it."

Rosalie stood next to Emmett, her hand in his. Jasper, who I hadn't even realized was here, finally stood. His hand brushed across my shoulder before he moved to Alice's other side. The atmosphere was ominous, but I still didn't understand. Was this … how was this proof? I looked over at Emmett. He grabbed my hand and squeezed, uncharacteristically familiar, and placed another photograph, face down, in my palm.

I turned it over.

My chest constricted tightly, my head reeling. My eyes opened wide, studying the image.

It was me. But it wasn't me.

Images, bright, shiny, and new, flickered, one by one before my mental eye. Impressions of love, of hope, of dense, green forests and wet, rainy days with the thick smell of peat moss hanging overhead were sudden and intense.

Alice stuttered beside me, lost as I was. One word pressed against my tongue from the other side of my brain.

"How?"

Emmett cleared his throat.

"Izzy."

With that name, more memories trickled down, sketchy images of a beautiful, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, shy and spunky, aggravating and effortless. Isabella.

I closed my eyes, shook my head.

Vaguely, I heard Alice ask for an explanation behind me. Rosalie's version was short and clipped, but I didn't pay any attention to the words.

I was lost in the photographs in my head.

They were blotchy and unfilled out; I couldn't have defined a single memory, but they were there, waiting to be tapped, to be coached along and pulled from the lake of my past by someone who knew better.

Someone whom I had loved through the boundaries of time and the distance of memory.

Bella. Izzy.

I needed her. Now.

Turning, I shoved the pictures back into Emmett's hand.

"I have to go get her."

"Wait, Trevor, who?"

Alice's hands were on my wrist.

"Isabella, I –" I shook my head, trying to clear tears. "I have to find her, explain. Apologize."

No one asked me why. Alice pursed her lips together, her eyes watery.

"I'm going with you."

No one questioned us.


	5. Chapter Five: Learning To Be

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, and I will not be earning income from using these materials. I do, however, own the storyline and any original characters. Thank you.

**A/N: **So, it was not until I was reading through all of the lovely reviews by KimiD that I realized I had never finished posting the last mini-moment to this story! Bad author ... *slaps self on hand* :( I hope posting it now is good enough that you can all forgive me for being such a blunder-brained new momma.

Thank you all for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy this last little bit of our story. Much love, and many happy readings.

Sky

This mini-moment is a Trevor POV which takes place right after **Chapter Eighteen: Lighting The Dark  
**

* * *

**Mini-Moments with Treward #5**

"**Learning to Be"**

x0x0x0x0x0x

I wanted to say something, before she left.

A hundred words, a dozen thank yous, couldn't pass the lump of brick wedged between my lungs while I struggled to breathe. It all blurred together, wall bleeding into window, bleeding into more wall, and I didn't even know she was gone until the door closed behind her, a faded thump that stilled my heart and left a hollow hole inside of all of me.

It was too late. I would somehow have to fix it later. If I could even figure out how to fix myself.

But then … who was 'myself'?

An 'I' is what I searched for, behind closed doors. That 'I', the special self of existence is said to be defined by what you feel. What you feel, who you are – all determined by our memories, our lives, our past and our present. People … humans, we are the sum of our experiences … so who do you become when you have none?

You become the sum of what you do have.

_"They never told you, Edward. They let you … believe - the lies."_

There was so much clarity in her words.

One mother here, one mother there; two contrasting faces in memories I couldn't reconcile. All of it was unbelievable, but only because to not believe would be even more impossible to accept.

"Trevor?"

I didn't look. I knew the voice, from two weeks hearing it while she brushed her fingers against mine. The woman … my mother … so she claimed. More recent things, playing with my past, collided in my head. They had cared for me. She … her green eyes had leaked for me, desperate tears, when I couldn't remember.

_Again_, I reminded myself.

But they lied. They were selfish. Anyone can take.

But take to give so much?

"What's my name?"

Silence – a thick, heavy, inescapable and all-consuming confirmation.

When she spoke, her words cracked, and I wanted to comfort and condemn in the same breath.

"The name we gave you … is Trevor."

"Son?"

One word.

Astonishing, the power of one word, which released equal parts anger and anguish for the ones who _deserved _to address me this way. The ones I might never truly know.

"Don't call me what I'm not." I struggled not to grind my teeth. Fingers clenched into fists. "You lost that right when you lied. And she gained it when she didn't."

I longed for Bella … my truth. Why had I asked her to leave?

"We haven't –"

"Then show me what rights you do have. Bring me my birth certificate … adoption papers … anything. Prove her wrong."

Her expression turned faint, fear creeping into her eyes like spidery wires, crawling down her face, ready to devour. I couldn't find him, only her, the woman I was certain had shown me love. Even Bella had said so. But I locked the comfort of my hands in place.

No one spoke, so I did.

"You can't. You never could, never had to, because you hold too much sway."

"And you believe her, over us, for nothing?"

I tried to watch her, but everything about her broke me. He was an easier target; calm, cool collectedness which gave me an object to face, to chip away with my questions. He made me brittle.

"She holds proof in something she could never fake." I tapped my temple. "Every memory she helps me find, up here."

He watched me, unflinching, but his blue eyes, crystal clear, suffering, faded in defeat.

"We only wanted to help you. To give you a home –"

"To love you, Edward." Her fingers, soft and barely there, hovering ghost-like above mine, intensified the whisper I wasn't sure she made. Her eyes lifted to mine, glittering green. A small, hushed piece of me drifted to her. I spoke to her alone.

"You couldn't love me with the truth, Esme?"

"It was too easy. Every step, it all fell into place, and one day I found myself believing … that nothing could shatter my lies. A perfect house made of glass." She shook her head. "And a little girl, with a pocket full of rocks."

"That girl … she rescued me. From the greatest mistake I could have made. She saved me from who I _wasn't_."

"And for that, I will always be thankful, Edward." Her head tilted, hair scattering over her shoulders. "You know, though. I can see it … in your eyes. He's a part of you, too. We are. You can't go back to either life … without loosing the other."

It was a rock, inside of me. Another truth, another judgment, another consequence I would keep for actions which were never mine.

Bella was right … but so was Esme.

We are the sum of our past. My past was twined in two.

"Where will you go?"

I looked around to watch them, his arm around her, united again, waiting to be accepted or denied. She had said the same thing, not so long ago. The girl who saved me by giving me a choice.

Bella.

Another word, so sudden, and yet so sure the moment it appeared from behind smoke and mirrors.

"I'll find a place." _No, I won't commit to you again._

"We could help, you know." Her words were meek, but I couldn't take them for what they were. I may not have been fully Edward, and I may not have been fully Trevor … but from this moment on, I had to be fully me. I would do the rest on my own.

"You've paid my hospital bills, and for that, I can't say thank you enough. But I won't ask or take any more." He began to protest. I looked away. "I know you can. But I won't take it."

"Okay … Edward." Acceptance. Hard pressed, but it lingered in his words, and I respected him for it.

"We still love you. Whatever name you go by, whoever you decide to be, just know … you brought us both back to life. We owe you our marriage. I owe you my happiness. And I'll always consider you," she sniffed, smiling, sad, "my son."

With two bold steps, she laid her hands on my head, pressed her lips against my temple, and then stepped back to him.

"We'll always be here. No matter what."

His words lingered behind him. They accepted defeat … and still loved, with no anger.

Experience defined another moment, another portion of who I would be, and the forgiveness I would work to find, eventually, for them.

Now, it was time to ask for my own forgiveness and pray she didn't turn me away.

I wriggled across starched sheets, and stretched for the phone, hefting its weight in my palm – before putting it down again. I didn't know her number. How was I supposed to call her back?

Three knocks and squeaking hinges.

"Hello? Anybody conscious in here?"

Emmett.

I needed someone to run my plan by anyhow.

"Only if you have what I need."

Curly brown hair peeked around the door.

"Need?"

"Advice."

"Hell, I got that in spades."

The gentle giant who apparently still considered me, apart from Bella, his best friend, pulled the only other chair across the floor and slipped between its armrests.

"And … a certain girl's number."

Emmett grinned.

"Oh, I'm sure I've got plenty of those, too."

"Well, then," I sat up a little straighter and held my hand out, "It looks like you may just be the best man for the job."

My hands were large; his engulfed mine.

"Welcome back, then."

I suspected a slight glisten in his eyes, but he smirked, regardless.

"You've been well missed, man."


End file.
